


Bad Snake.

by Felix_Nikolla



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adorable, Aka the best ship name, Consenting Cycle Repairmen, Cuties, Fluff, Gay, I ship these two way too hard, M/M, Smol supernatural babes, Someone save me from the trash pit, Thank you Anathema
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 06:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felix_Nikolla/pseuds/Felix_Nikolla
Summary: I found a picture on the internet and I wrote fluff so yeah I hope you like it enjoy and stuff.





	

It was a nice day. Of course, this included the things most people would consider part of nice days, like sunshine, little to no clouds, and flowers blooming proudly, in the quiet signal that spring had arrived. Few people wandered along the street, and any that were on it happened to be oblivious to most things around them. Indeed, it was a nice day.

So, as always, it only made sense that Aziraphale was in his bookshop, fending away potential customers. It was an unusual morning, for two reasons. The first, being that there had been three customers so far, all thankfully empty handed when they left. He was proud of his work, the dust, the cobwebs, the unpleasant smells.

The second strange factor was Crowley. He had been tired the night prior after their usual drinking session, the drowsiness following despite miracling away the alcohol from his system. Feeling bad for him*, the angel had suggested Crowley stay at the bookstore for the night, and really, the serpent had been too tired to refuse. So, he'd slept on the couch, sound asleep until Aziraphale had woken him up on accident. He'd tripped over his own pajamas, and startled Crowley awake.

(*It wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, but action wasn't usually taken either.)

How he'd ended up with such a wonderful, happy, tired scarf, Aziraphale had no idea. All he knew was now, he was standing in front of a potential customer, whom he was determined to drive away, a pitch black snake lazily coiled around his neck, down his back, and around his waist*. The angel decided he'd never, ever admit to how happy this made him, to warm Crowley up, stroking his head every now and then. It added to his confidence, as well, when dealing with customers**. Knowing that a popular fear amongst humans was snakes, and knowing Crowley was right there, asleep or not, was extremely comforting.

(*Crowley was too tired to attempt to make himself smaller, and unfortunately for the angel, there was more than enough of him to wrap around.)

(**Especially this one. He was picky, and stubborn, but Aziraphale refused to lose to him.)

After ten minutes of glaring at the man, adding more dust to slightly cleaner areas when he wasn't looking, and giving him a thin-lipped smile at every chance he had, Aziraphale finally succeeded. The man left, disappointed, and probably annoyed. Of course, Aziraphale felt bad for him, but he didn't exactly give his sympathy, either. His books were one of his favorite things, and he simply could not lose them.

One of his other favorite things soon made him blush, flickering a forked tongue over the skin of the angel's neck. It tickled him, and immediately flustered him as well.

"Nice one, Angel."

Regaining his thoughts, Aziraphale cleared his throat, and gently pet the head of his companion.

"Thank you, dear. When did you wake up?"

"Jussst a minute ago. And there you were, hovering, like a damn Secretary-"

The snake cut himself off, decided he didn't want to revisit that memory, and curled himself tighter around Aziraphale's neck. Tensing a bit at the movement, Aziraphale sighed, and pet Crowley some more. It was, too, a calming action.

"If you don't like the birds, why do you mention them?"

"Because it was a fitting metaphor, until my mind got to Africa."

Smiling softly, the angel decided he couldn't last any longer without a cup of tea. He walked off then, locking the door momentarily with a wave of his hand, and heading for his kitchen. Truly, he almost made it. The water had boiled, and he'd taken the kettle from the stove, filled his cup, added his tea bag.

"A-Angel-"

Then, Crowley sneezed, catching Aziraphale by surprise. Having been around the angel's neck, Crowley had no methods of escaping the water vapors, which tickled his nose. At the same time, Aziraphale had neglected to pay attention to the sudden movement of the demon, which set him up for surprise.

The sneeze made him jump, but for more than one reason; Crowley wasn't a snake anymore. Suddenly, Aziraphale found himself falling over, along with his box of tea, the humanoid demon holding his arms around Aziraphale's neck with a death grip, and his legs crossed around his waist. They both screamed, falling to the floor, Crowley holding onto Aziraphale for dear life, and hissing loudly as his perch fell over. Neither of them moved, scared stiff, until the angel huffed, and poked at Crowley's chest, his head comfortably* settled on the demon's stomach.

(*Comfortably for having fallen over, onto the hardwood floor.)

"Crowley, dear, you can let go of me now..."

Instead, the serpent hissed again, which annoyed Aziraphale even further. He didn't want to show it, however, and only sighed, poking at his chin. Then his soft, adorable cheeks*, pointed nose, everything. He loved it all.

(*Considering the fact that Crowley was 85% pure nerves, muscle and skeleton, they were fairly soft.)

Eventually, Crowley let go of him, and got up with a small sigh.

"Sorry, Angel, I kinda scared myself there..."

There was something in Crowley's bright, golden eyes that made the angel think he was lying. When offered, he accepted Crowley's hand up, and smiled, adjusting his coat.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Perhaps you'd like to join me to read, in the back room?"

Crowley smirked, which faded when his gaze was met by Aziraphale, making the same gesture. It looked out of place on his slightly pudgy face, and it unnerved the demon a bit.

"...What?"

"As a person."

This made Crowley groan, before he sighed, and rolled his eyes.

"Oh... Fine. Just for you."

As he left, Crowley decided to test his luck, running his fingers through Aziraphale's blonde, curly hair. This action made the angel freeze up for a solid minute, trying to comprehend it and failing. Were demons capable of love? He knew Crowley hated the word, but as he grabbed his tea, Aziraphale couldn't help but wonder if it was possible.

Sighing softly, he walked down to the back room of the bookstore, and happily opened the door. Crowley was waiting for him, his trademark pair of sunglasses mysteriously replaced, and covering the reptilian eyes that sometimes made Aziraphale's heart skip a beat. He was amazing*, and hurriedly, the angel sat down on the couch, getting as comfortable as possible.

(*Especially for a demon. Most hadn't seemed to take the fall so well.)

"So, what kind of tea is in store today?"

"Green."

Smiling softly, Aziraphale sipped at it, and squeaked, feeling an arm cover his shoulders.

"Sounds nice, if you ask me."

Giggling a bit, Aziraphale soon gave in, scooting closer to Crowley. He crossed his legs, and smirked again.

"It really, really is. But not anything like you, dear."

The angel wasted no time in taking a drink, and wincing, despite already knowing the problem. He happily ignored Crowley behind him, becoming warm and fuzzy and... melting.

"Oh, it's too hot at the moment..."

"I've got it."

Although he was a second away from miracling it better, Aziraphale watched with a smile as Crowley took his cup, and quietly blew on it. It was a childish remedy, but really, he didn't care. He was busy looking over the silly old serpent's focused, blushing face. Soon enough, Crowley stopped, and handed the cup back, making Aziraphale turn away in disappointment. He wanted to keep looking.

"Here. Try this, Angel."

Aziraphale did, and as expected, it was perfect. He sipped it, and snuggled himself into Crowley's side, flustering the demon further.

"You're too sweet, dear..."

"I'm anything but ssssweet, and you should know it by now."

The hissing. He hissed when he was nervous. Flustered. Angry. When he forgot not to. Aziraphale had experienced it all, and he tried to refrain from giggling.

"Alright, alright, you can win this time. But I claim next round~"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Although he'd gone quiet, Aziraphale smiled into his cup, and listened to Crowley's racing heart. Eventually, he fell asleep again, his sunglasses falling off his face and making Aziraphale giggle. They stayed like that the rest of the afternoon, comfy, and although Crowley would never admit it, not wanting to ever leave the couch.

**Author's Note:**

> I ship these two way too hard-  
> Like seriously I need so much more fluff.  
> Is it possible to read Good Omens and not ship them?  
> Legitimate question, I want an answer-  
> Aight anyways hope you liked it because there's more coming k ily bai


End file.
